Tuesday, January 3, 2017

"Sooth Ache"

I’m
Art Kumbalek and man oh manischewitz what a world, ain’a? So how’s this new
year been treating you so far? I don’t know if it’s just me but to be honest, I
don’t notice a dime’s worth of difference from the previous crappy year, what
the fock.

And
how was my merry focking Christmas? No, Santa—fat moralistic fock that he
is—did not deliver the bevy of Vegas showgirls I had requested; but thanks for
asking.

Anyways,
I thought maybe to put off my much ballyhooed annual Look Back/Watch Out Ahead gala essay until next week, or later,
because I’ve become uncomfortable with this “prediction” malarkey. It’s that
time of year now where all these so-called soothsayers come crawling out of the
knobwork. Soothsayer. Look it up in the dictionary some time why don’t you.
I’ll bet you a buck two-eighty it says this: “Soothsayer—Bullshit artist of
ancient times.”

Oh
well, if the sooth fits, bare it—and bare it I shall,
since I understand that some of you’s may be expecting my annual Look Back/Watch Out Ahead gala essay
this week, but guess what? Although my stake on New Year’s resolutions has long
been claimed—Resolutions are for
quitters, and quitters never win. So don’t be a loser. Be a winner and screw
all those New Year’s resolutions.—I resolved to shake things up last
weekend and decided that during the new year, I really ought to take it easy
once in a while.

And
so my annual Look Back/Watch Out Ahead
gala essay need be condensed. And remember that pithiness is the soul of
brevity; so here it is for you to pith on:

The Year 2016: Sucked, but
good.

Watch Out
Ahead, 2017:
Will suck, even more. Can you believe it? And the only surefire thing I predict
is that there will be a sucker born at least every minute.

There
you go. Clean, economical and near-elegant, ain’a? And that’s all I’ve got to
say about that ’cause I’d like to break this off right here, right now, and do
something nice for myself like crank up the thermostat and mix another hot
focking toddy, you betcha.

Yeah,
hate to disappoint you if you were in the market for a next-year’s prediction a
tad rosier, but you got to remember that disappointment is a fact of life.
Albert focking Einstein was disappointed that he never found a way to wrap up
his Theory of Everything before he croaked. And I’m extremely disappointed that
I’ll never get to meet Marilyn Monroe, not to mention my deep disappointment
cum despair that my bonehead ancestors thought it was a better idea to settle
here in the Upper Midwest instead of the temperate and libertine lifestyle
climes of Ta-focking-hiti, what the fock.

But
that’s life, mister. Yes, you’ll be disappointed sometime, maybe not today,
maybe not tomorrow, but soon, and maybe for the rest of your life. Your Auntie
Mame may once have said, “Life is a banquet, and most poor suckers are starving
to death,” but your Uncle Art says, “Life’s a crap casserole and all you can do
is strap on the ol’ feedbag and say ‘bon appétit.’”

So
happy focking New Year. But before I go, I’d like to mention that for
Christmas, I received a nice little story from my buddy Little Jimmy Iodine,
but I already had it so I thought I’d re-gift it to you ’cause what the fock.
Here, try it on:

So on Christmas
morning this cop on horseback is sitting at a traffic light, and next to him is
a kid on a shiny new Schwinn. Cop says to the kid, “That’s a very nice bicycle
you’ve got there. Did Santa bring that for you?”

The kid replies, “You bet, officer.” And the cop
says, “Well, next year tell Santa to put a taillight on that bike.”

The cop decides to give the kid a lesson for
Christmas and proceeds to issue a $20 bicycle-safety violation ticket. The kid
takes the ticket, wishes the cop a merry Christmas but before he rides off
says, “By the way, officer, that’s a nice horse you’ve got there. Did Santa
bring that to you?” Upholding the spirit of the season, the cop says, “Yes son,
he sure did.”

And the kid says, “Well, next year tell Santa to
put the focking asshole at the back-end of the horse instead of on top, would
you?”

Ba-ding!
So again, you’s have a happy new year—hey, at my age I still like to think
anything’s possible, what the fock, ’cause I’m Art Kumbalek and I told you so.

Art For Art's Sake

From rhe Shepherd Express
, Art Kumbalek comes with his column "Art For Art's Sake," more or less every Tuesday. Art's been doing this for more than 30 years, so he must have something to say.

Dear Madame Zoltar

Every Wednesday, Madame Zoltar responds to your queries and comments in her blog, Dear Madame Zoltar. Are the stars in your favor? What to do with that 401K? Find out by sending your questions and thoughts to: madamezoltar@jtirregulars.com

NORML

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